


72 Hours

by mouthword



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Violence, Mental Health Issues, Mental Hospital, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Referenced Statutory Rape, Trans Female Character, implied eating disorder, referenced pedophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:39:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthword/pseuds/mouthword
Summary: 72 hours. He had that number ingrained into his head ever since the nurse doing his intake mentioned it. If he played his cards right, he could be out of this hospital in 72 hours, and never have to come here again.A lot can happen in 72 hours.





	1. KARKAT VANTAS: EVALUATION

**Author's Note:**

> In the year 2016, I spent over five months in shelters, mental hospitals, and residential facilities.
> 
> I kept this journal, in all of the facilities I went to, about Homestuck characters, and how they would react in the situations I was thrown into. What their diagnoses would be. All that jazz.
> 
> It kept me stable enough to get through all of that, to where I am now.
> 
> I just felt the need to share that this isn't going to be a straight jacket and padded room mental hospital fic. This is going to be based loosely around real events, of real mental hospitals in the 21st century.

* * *

**\---**

**Karkat S. Vantas  
**

**M**

**7/6/00**

**Allergies: Penicillin**

**Diagnoses: Cubital Tunnel Syndrome**

**Medications: N/A**

**\---**

 

**Patient was brought in by his father at 11:00pm on [REDACTED] after a violent outburst. Has had no prior hospitalizations or history of mental illness.**

 

* * *

 

 

Karkat idly gnawed at a hangnail on his thumb as the young psych nurse beside him filled out his information on the computer. Everything leading up to this had been a huge blur. The argument. The things he said. The drive to the hospital. How he ended up where he currently was. He tuned out bits and pieces of it all, if only to keep from breaking down. For now, his main focus was getting rid of this hangnail.

 

"Just a few more questions! I'm sure you must be quite tired, so I'll make this as fast as possible." The nurse offered him a small, polite smile, though he hardly looked up from the computer. Karkat didn't know why, but he was immediately irritated by this guy. The sound of his voice. His fake, almost condescending kindness. The way he could talk about keeping this quick, yet continue to ask question after useless question regarding information Karkat was pretty fucking sure was already on his medical charts. His father sat beside him, relatively silent through all of this, only speaking up every once in a while to correct him, or fill in information he didn't know the answer to. He didn't even look at Karkat, keeping his attention on the nurse instead. It was pretty late, after all, especially since it was a Monday. Gnawing at his hangnail seemed to help keep him awake. When was the last time he slept? Had to be more than 24 hours.

 

"Now then, could you explain to me what happened?" The nurse finally turned to him, if only just a tad, still keeping an eye on the computer. Kankri Virgo was the name printed on his nametag, along with a picture of him when he seemed to be a few years younger, fresh out of med school. What an over-achieving assbasket.

 

The two of them were silent for an extended period of time, Karkat peering to the ground and gnawing at his thumb, while the two of them looked to him expectantly. When it became clear that Karkat had no intention of answering, his father offered a sigh, and turned his attention to the nurse. "He got upset after an argument about his grades, and started trashing his room. He knocked over a bookshelf and kept yelling about what a failure he was. Said something like "he's an inconvenience to everyone and he'd be better off dead."" His father answered for him. The nurse nodded, returning his attention to the computer, and typing in what he had said.

 

"Have you been feeling like this prior to the argument?" Once again, the nurse glanced to Karkat. Karkat had shifted from gnawing his thumb raw to chewing at one of his hoodie strings, making a sort of annoyed grumble and slinking in his chair. It was clear he had no interest in answering this line of questioning. Somewhere, he had it ingrained in his mind that if he didn't offer the truth to the nurse, he'd prevent the inevitable.

 

He was here to get locked up like a rabid dog. He just knew it.

 

After another bout of silence, his father spoke up again, a bit more annoyed this time. "He gets like this a lot, but never to the point of throwing shit around. Stresses himself out over small stuff, gets really angry."  
  
"Has he been sleeping well?" The nurse seemed to have given up on speaking with Karkat entirely, instead directing his attention to the one really answering the questions here. Considering Karkat was technically a minor, it didn't seem to make any difference. Karkat found this all to be quite patronizing.

 

"I don't think I ever really catch him sleeping. He's mostly on the computer all the time. I hear him shouting at people on games at 2am sometimes." His father simply shrugged. "He did that 24 hour video game thing this weekend. Don't think he's slept much since."

 

"You play video games? That's neat. What games do you play?" Kankri made another feeble attempt at getting Karkat to talk, only to end up shunned once again. This time, Kankri was the one to sigh, giving a few rhythmic "tss" sounds with his mouth as he entered in another line of text. "Lack of sleep and other outside stressors can definitely lead us to our breaking points. While I don't feel engaging in in-patient hospitalization is quite necessary in this instance, considering this seems to have been an isolated incident that could've very well been irritability associated with lack of sleep...we're required to do a 72 hour hold on anyone who has voiced suicide ideation."

  
  
"Suicide ideaton?" Karkat finally spoke up, sitting up and raising his voice, eyebrows furrowed in rage. "When the fuck did I say anything about suicide?" He huffed, glaring the nurse down. Kankri returned his glance in an almost stunned silence, before giving another sigh. It was clear he was just as tired as they were, and wanted to get this done with just as much as they did. Still, he threw on another small smile, if only for Karkat's sake.

 

"Well, you stated that you would be better off dead. Statements like that are qualified as suicide ideation, and must be treated seriously. We do holds like this for your safety, and the safety of those around you. It's better to keep you here just to be safe than to let you go and have you end up hurting yourself." He explained, then continued without giving Karkat a chance to reply. "The unit isn't as scary as most people think it is. Of all the facilities I've trained at, this one is certainly the nicest. We have a television and a radio and whatnot. The people on the unit are really nice as well! I work as a nurse on the unit during the night shift on weekdays, I can certainly help you if you have questions about anything." He added, giving Karkat an affirmative nod, before finishing up on the computer. "We have a bit of paperwork for you to sign, then we'll set you up with a bed, sound good?"

  
Karkat just scoffed. Jesus, this guy talked a lot. "This is bullshit." He muttered under his breath, sliding down in his chair again. He looked to his father, as if to seek a way out of this, to get him to agree that this was bullshit and take him home...but he simply focused on the nurse instead. He looked between the two of them, watching as his father signed some releases of information, and other paperwork required to admit him.

 

This was it. He was a muzzled dog in a cage, all for chewing on something he shouldn't. Kakrat Vantas wasn't a bad person...what did he do to deserve this sort of treatment? To deserve his father downright ignoring him and signing him away to the hospital?

 

This. Was. Bullshit.

 

"Alright," Kankri took the signed paperwork, returning his attention to Karkat. "If you'd like to say goodbye to your father, I can give you some time. Otherwise, you can come with me, and I can take you down to the unit. Your father can't come with us, but he can visit tomorrow between 4-6pm." He gave another small nod, rising to his feet. Karkat was quick to do the same, not even offering his father a second glance as he turned his attention to Kankri. He was on the verge of tears at the idea of leaving without saying all he wanted to say...but he felt his father deserved the silence. His father opened his mouth to say something, then paused, muttering a short goodbye instead. Kankri looked between the two, trying not to get involved more than he was allowed to. "...Alright. Follow me then."

 

Karkat got strip searched for the first time in his life. It was a deeply unpleasant experience. He was given a set of generic gray scrubs, considering his hoodie and shoes had strings in them and he was currently on suicide precautions. He found it kind of hilarious that owning shoes was viewed as potentially dangerous. He found the scubs incredibly uncomfortable, like wearing construction paper for clothing. He kept quiet. Maybe if he just kept quiet, he'd be out of there in the minimum amount of time. 72 hours. He had that number ingrained into his head ever since the nurse doing his intake mentioned it. If he played his cards right, he could be out of this place in 72 hours, and never have to come here again.

 

He lead Karkat down the hall, to a set of large doors that separated the waiting room and offices from the unit. "You'll be in the adolescents unit, which is for those from the ages of 13-19. We don't have anyone on the young side at the moment, most everyone is right around your age and older." He continued to talk to mainly himself. Karkat peeked around at the various coloring pages hanging in the nurses station and on some of the doors, most looking like they belonged in a children's unit. There was a tv area, like Kankri had stated previously, as well as a small eating area and an open windowed office full of nurses and other staff members. A few of the rooms were open, and peering into them revealed that most seemed to have two beds. They seemed pretty standard, by hospital standards, aside from being pretty bare bones. "We're fairly full at the moment, so you'll be placed with a roommate. However, your roommate is currently..." He paused. "He won't be sleeping in there tonight, but he'll probably be around for breakfast for you to meet him." Kankri added, leading Karkat into his room. A bed had been prepared for him already, all neatly made with a single thin hospital blanket and a single shitty pillow. There was a locked closet in there as well, presumably for any other belongings he may have brought in at a later date, and a door that lead to a small bathroom. His half of the room looked absolutely pristine in comparison to the other. The other bed was a mess, dark blankets brought in from home half fallen on the floor, drawings and various pages of writing taped to the walls, a few hackey sacks sat on the nightstand. It definitely looked lived in, as if they'd been there for a while.

 

Karkat decided to immediately crawl into bed, ready to pass out as soon as all had been said and done. Kankri stated that he was required to keep the door open, at least for the first 24 hours, the bright florescent lights from the hallway brightening up the room almost entirely. How did they expect him to sleep like that? Bullshit. All of it. He sighed, deciding to glance around the room, kept just barely entertained by the sounds of footsteps down the hall, nurse chatter, and the cars down the highway from his window. His eyes finally caught on a small whiteboard, attached to the side of the closet. It had information like the room number and date on it, perhaps to keep the patients aware of such things, as well as the names of the patients in the room. The name under Bed #2 was left blank, he assumed Kankri had forgotten about it, but Bed #1...that was a name he hadn't seen in a few years.

 

Karkat had a feeling this was going to be a long 72 hours.


	2. GAMZEE MAKARA: DAY 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat starts off his first morning in-patient, and meets the people he will be sharing his stay with, including the one who he'd been dreading this entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed all the dates thusfar to [REDACTED], considering I started this fic in November and am only now uploading Chapter 2, two months later. I intend to update a little more frequently than that, now that I'm back in the swing of things. Enjoy!

* * *

 

\---  
  
  
  
**Gamzee F. Makara**  
  
**M**  
  
**1/4/98**  
  
**Allergies: N/A**  
  
  
**Diagnoses:**  
  
**Schizophrenia**  
  
**Bipolar Disorder**  
  
**History of Substance Abuse**  
  
  
  
**Medications:**  
  
**Seroquel 750mg**  
  
**Lithium 800mg**  
  
\---  
  
  
**Patient had a violent outburst on [REDACTED] after a disagreement with another patient, required sedation. Moved to isolation for 24 hours. Placed on Watch Level 3.**  
  


* * *

  
  
  
"Gamzee? It's time to wake up." One of the morning nurses gave a soft knock on Gamzee's doorframe after opening it, peering in at the figure on the lone, plain mattress on the floor of the small room. "Morning meds, Gamzee. Time to wake up!" She spoke in a soft voice and offered a bright smile, unbeffitting of someone who had to be up as early as her, but she seemed to hold it together just fine, even if she was a bit frazzled at times. She knew her job was to be as cheery as possible in the morning, especially when waking everyone up, so she was rarely without a smile. It helped. It helped both her and the patients she worked with.  
  
"Mffh...mother _fuuuuuuck_..." Gamzee brought a hand to his forehead as he finally began to rouse from his bed, a roaring migraine already hitting him from the sedatives leaving his system. "Wh...wh'sgoinon?" He slurred out, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Everything seemed kind of fuzzy to him at the moment; his vision, his mind, and his memory. He looked around the plain isolation room, before his eyes fell on the nurse in the doorway. Callie. One of the only morning nurses that was actually pleasant to work with, in his opinion. She was nice. Never fed him any lies or tried to fill him with poison. She offered him a smile, and stepped in, handing him his medication and a small cup of water.  
  
"There we go! How are you feeling this morning?" She offered a tilt of her head at the question, bright eyed with a kind face. While working with those in isolation was one of the scary parts of the job, but she paid the situation at hand no mind. She'd worked with Gamzee every time he'd been hospitalized, after all, considering she'd been on this unit for some time now.  
  
While Gamzee was usually one to fight meds to the death, since he was heavily medicated at the moment, he thought nothing of downing the meds that were handed to him. Meds couldn't be that scary of someone as nice and rainbowy as Callie was giving them to him, right? Callie was a real rainbowy person, he liked her. "Uhhhh..." He blinked a few times, looking around as if the walls would offer him answers. Of course, they didn't, everything was real quiet right about now. "Sorry sis, my minds all up in the clouds right now...I got thrown in the shitshack, though. That ain't chill." He muttered, running a hand through his thick hair, a feat that'd make anyone wonder how it didn't get stuck in his curls.  
  
"Ah, no worries! It'll come to you after a bit. You got into a little fit with Dave, and you had to be sedated...that's probably why everything's all fuzzy!" Her smile faltered just a tad, though she remained as cheery as possible. "Would you like to come get breakfast? It just arrived a little bit ago. I decided to let you sleep a bit longer since you were pretty tired." She stepped back to offer him room to stand as he did, albeit a little wobbly on his feet.  
  
"Yeah...breakfast sounds bitchin', thanks..." He muttered. Anyone who saw this side of Gamzee would never guess he was capable of being volatile enough to have a breakdown like that. There was always a calm after the storm with him. A disarming sense of peace. One that's usually closely followed by another.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Gamzee. Motherfucking. Makara. What was there to say about that guy? That he was a walking druggie stereotype who'd been on everything in the book and would probably eat a lot of cheese if you told him it'd get him high? That he could go from petting your dog to yelling at it for looking at him funny in two seconds flat? That he had more assault charges than a strongman with a nervous arm twitch?  
  
Karkat didn't sleep much that night. If not for the shitty blanket, the shitty mattress, having to have the god damn door open with the light shining in and the nurse peeking in every five seconds, it was because of that name on the whiteboard. Gamzee. It wasn't exactly a common name, you don't meet a lot of Gamzees in the world. It'd be one hell of a coincidence if there was some other nutjob in the crazy bin named coincidentally sharing the same name as his schizoid of an ex best friend, but by god, he hoped there was one out there. Still. It left one question; if Gamzee was somewhere other than in the room with him, where was he?  
  
By the time it was time to wake up, Karkat had already been awake for an hour or so, if only because of the sound of nurses doing their rounds and giving other patients their medication. In between the crying and the trying to find a comfortable position on the shitty hospital bed with one pillow and one blanket, he maybe got two hours of sleep.  He took a few minutes once he was told to get up, sitting up in bed and trying to justify even leaving his room. He wondered if he could just try and sleep the hours off his nuthouse sentence and leave. Still. Might as well make an attempt to eat breakfast, the woman who woke him up was really nice about it, and god knows when the last time he ate was. He got up, and opted to head straight for the eating area instead of making any attempts to brush his teeth or shower with the hospital provided amenities. If he was only going to be here for 72 hours, that wasn't exactly top priority for him.  
  
  
Kankri had been right when he stated that they were at full capacity. Even without everyone awake yet, the three small tables provided for patients to eat at were nearly full, leaving patients to eat at the couch or in the arm chairs. There seemed to be a weird metal box full of food trays, most likely to transport the food from the hospital cafeteria to the unit. It was probably for the best, Karkat couldn't imagine going through the chaos of transporting a gaggle of crazies from the cafeteria and back without losing one. He kept to himself, trying to follow everyone else's lead. The nurse leaning against the box seemed to be  letting people grab trays from the box. He should probably grab a tray from the box. He approached it, bending over and grabbing the first food tray he saw. The meal was equally as bare bones as the rest of the ward was, a serving size container of generic offbrand cornflakes with a carton of milk and an apple. The kind of breakfast that they served in the school breakfast program, back in the day. It felt almost nostalgic to him, in a way. He took his tray over to one of the arm chairs facing the TV, as the tables seemed full with their own cliques and he didn't want to have to socialize with anyone any more than he had to. These people were scary, people who actually needed to be here for one reason or another. Maybe if he just kept to himself, nothing bad would happen.  
  
\---  
  
Gamzee made his way down the hall from solitary, guided by Callie from one unit to the other. He was still pretty dazed, his fingers felt numb and his vision was blurred, but that was all chill. Things were chill. Sometimes you gotta punch a guy so that the nurses will give you another sedative pill to get you in your chill space, but that's okay. That's all part of the plan. Everything was beautiful. Life was beautiful.  
  
"Hey, Gamzee!" Once Gamzee turned the corner into the recreational area, he was greeted with a wave from one of his friends, and he offered a wave back. "You out of solitary, or just out for breakfast?" The boy at the table gave a slight tilt to his head as he asked, earning a dismissive wave from Gamzee as Gamzee made his way over to the food cart.  
  
"Nahhh...I'm out. Just had a lil anger cloud yesterday that needed a lil boost a sunshine to make it go away." Gamzee gave a lazy grin, shuffling to go sit next to the boy he'd been conversing with, when he noted off. Karkat, sitting in one of the arm chairs, hunching and shielding his face with his hand as he tried to avoid having to talk to Gamzee, recognizing his voice from the moment he walked in. It was inevitable, but damned if he wasn't going to try and prevent it for a few seconds longer. "Shiiiiiit, we got a newbie?" Gamzee directed the attention in the room towards Karkat, albeit unintentionally, leading more eyes to fall on him than before. "How you doin', my man?"  
  
Kakat took a deep sigh, before finally peeking up, locking eyes with Gamzee. Fine. Screw it. He wasn't going to be in here that long, he could at least attempt to be civil with Gamzee.  
  
"Oh shit! Karkat, my man! Damn, it's been ages bro!" Gamzee grinned a little wider, making a bee line over to take the arm chair next to him. "How you been, brother? Manage to keep afloat in the swamp that is our morally fudged over public school system? You're still kickin', at least, that's good! What landed you in the shitshack?" He started attempting to peel his orange, nails gnawed too short to really do any damage.  
  
"It's...fine. It's nothing. I'm gonna be gone in 72 hours anyway." Karkat replied, quick and snippy, peeling the cover off his serving sized cereal and crumpling it up, before taking some dry cereal into his hand and eating it.  
  
"Hah. Well if that ain't the biggest load 'a bullshit I ever heard. Don't mean to sprinkle some rain on that lovely lil parade you got in the works there my bro, but I think what you're goin' for there is 72 hour minimum. They gotta say that just to be up and all, like, tellin' you that's how long they're required to keep your toaster outta your tub, y'know?" He held a small smile as he spoke, gesturing with the hand that held the orange every once in a while. "You ain't never been in before, right?"  
  
Karkat shot an irritated squint his way, fairly certain Gamzee was speaking for himself in terms of extensive stays, before shaking his head. "No. And I don't intend to stay for any longer than that. I was told 72 hours, I'm only staying for 72 hours."  
  
Gamzee replied with a sliding whistle, before shaking his head. "Man. I feel bad for you. They's gonna be runnin' allllllll sortsa tests, havin' you fill out more personality quizzes than one of them teen girl magazines and shit. First time I was shoved in the shitshack they was pullin' me left and right tryin' to get a read on me. Not to mention they keep ya longer if they put you on meds, gotta watch to make sure that shit works, yknow?"  
  
"Okay, I'm not going to end up on medication." Karkat scoffed, treating it like a dirty word. "I'm not crazy, Gamzee. I'm here because of a shitty mistake, and that isn't going to happen again. I'm not crazy! I just said some dumb shit that I didn't mean. I'll be out of here before you can say "motherfucker". Believe you me." He threw another handful of dry cereal in his mouth.  
  
"Hey man, keep on keepin' on. If thinkin' that makes you feel good, then think it. I'm just here spewin' the facts. Lotta folks here are on their first time and been here longer." He pointed over to the boy he'd been talking to earlier, who offered a small wave in response. "Tav over there's been here for 5 days, first time." He pointed to a guy seated in one of the armchairs, legs curled up under him as he watched the news playing on tv. "That guy? Been here for two weeks now, first time, here waitin' on a court case or somethin'." Lastly, he pointed to a guy who was sipping the juice from his fruit cup, leaning precariously back in his chair. "And him? Ohhhhh boy...that asshole's been here th' longest outta everyone, probably."  
  
"What?" Karkat had gone wide eyed as Gamzee spoke, biting the inside of his cheek and dreading the posibility of staying any longer than he had to. "How long can they even keep you here? That's bullshit!" He dug his nails into the arm of the chair, downright terrified of the prospect of being kept here for two weeks, if not more.  
  
"Depends on your insurance. Usually don't cover more than a few weeks, hospital ain't gonna keep you that long if the big boys on the hill decide you're too crazy to deal with..." He gave a single shoulder shrug. "Almost makes ya feel bad when folks like him end up in here for two months without noplace else to go."


	3. DAVE STRIDER: DAY 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Meenah converse over breakfast. Later, Karkat attends his first group, and is introduced to a few more of the patients he will be spending his stay with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [*your positive comments fill the author with DETERMINATION]
> 
> I have a general outline of who I want to introduce in what order, however, I'd love to hear from you guys who you want to hear more about or what characters you feel I should add!

 

* * *

  
  
**\---**  
  
**David E. Strider**  
  
**12/3/98**  
  
**M**  
  
**Allergies: N/A**  
  
  
  
**Diagnoses:**  
  
**Depression**  
  
**Borderline Personality Disorder**  
  
**Post Traumatic Stress Disorder**  
  
**History of Physical Abuse**  
  
  
  
**Medications:**  
  
**Sertaline 100mg**  
  
**\---**  
  
 send in an order for ibuprofen please!!!!!  
  
-callie c:  
  
 

* * *

  
  
  
Callie made her way around one of the breakfast tables,  continuing to hand out meds. She toted around a cart, one that had a computer with a scanner, so that she could scan the arm bands of everyone she offered medication to. She rolled the cart to a stop beside the next patient on her list, already holding the cup of pills in one hand and the scanner in the other. "All aboard the med train! Choo choo!" She giggled at her own joke, though quickly stiffed her laughter when she realized that nobody else was laughing. "Heh. Wristband, if you would so kindly sir!"  
  
Dave sipped the rest of the juice from his fruit cup, extending his arm to have his wristband scanned without a beat. He was pretty used to the cycle, it wasn't like Callie even had to ask. He refrained from swallowing the juice as he set the cup down, taking his one pill from Callie and tossing it in his mouth.  
  
"Man, how do you even do that? Don't you know that fuckin' fruit cup juice is fulla like...corn syrup and all sortsa nasty shit? What's wrong with you?" A girl at the same table as Dave sneered at his choice of beverage, leaning back in her chair, not having touched any of her food but still fiddling with the fork in her hand.  
  
Dave swallowed, before replying. "Hey. Sugar's sugar, sugar. You don't see anybody makin' us coffee or tossin' us a Red Bull, I take what I can get." He shrugged, picking up the apple from his plate and glancing over to the nurse. "Got any ibuprofen on file for me yet, Callie?" He motioned towards his eye, still slightly bruised over from where Gamzee had punched him. It wasn't the nastiest bruise in the world, but it still hurt quite a bit.  
  
"Not when I checked, I left a note for it though! Don't worry!" She gave him a small, comforting pat on the shoulder, before continuing on with her rounds.  
  
"It's still gross, dude. I mean fuck, y'don't see Crayzee over there tryin' to smoke the houseplants or nothin'...can you believe they let that guy out already? Fuckin' favoritism." The girl sitting next to him spoke up again, lowering her voice but gesturing slightly over to Gamzee, shaking her head. "Guy says he's gonna be chill and do what folks tell 'im, ends up back here two weeks later. Got big money on that."  
  
"Oh, totally. He's been here twice since I got here. It's to the point where I just feel sorry for him, honestly, I hope they find somethin' that actually WORKS for him, send him up to residential to keep the guy off the streets, y'know?" He shrugged, taking a bite out of his apple.  
  
"Awwww, lil Dave's got a golden heart! Gonna turn the other cheek on the psycho who wants you dead, ain't that cute." She smirked, nudging his shoulder with her fork. "I think you're gettin' fuckin' Stockholm Syndrome or somethin', dude. They find a place for you yet?"  
  
"Nah." He gave a little 'shoo' motion with his hand, gesturing for her to stop poking him. "Case manager said the best bet for me right now would be a shelter, I pretty much told her to eat my ass and let me wait until a residential join opens up. But, you know, in a polite "don't throw me in with someone who's gonna stab me in my sleep" kinda way." He added.  
  
"Trust me, more people are bound ta stab you in here than in there, I mean, don't you remember what happened yesterday, or did Crayzee knock that memory right outta your pretty little head?" She snickered, leaning over  to ruffle his hair. Typically, Dave wasn't one for any form of physical affection, or unsolicited physical contact in general, but Meenah was someone he'd gotten close with, so he begrudgingly accepted the hair ruffle.  
  
"A'ight, quit it, before someone writes you up for that shit. Don't want nobody thinkin' we're canoodling outta camera view or nothin'." He rolled his eyes. "Being thrown in a shelter is pretty much the systems way of telling me that I gotta deal with all this shit on my own now that I'm 18, and considering I was hardly allowed to eat back home, let alone get myself a job, it's not like I can really manage without a crutch. They're working on getting me on like...that kinda disability for nutjobs, SSI or whatever, I just gotta fill out a tragic backstory form and I'm set." He paused, pointing to Meenah's tray. "Speaking of, you should really eat something, dude. If they send you back over to the ED unit, these vultures are gonna eat a raw hunk of man like me alive. I need my Looney Bin Wife, Meenah."  
  
"Psssh...please, they ain't gonna send me over to ED because I skipped breakfast. Halfa these fools skip breakfast 'cause they're to lazy to get up." She scoffed, looking to see if he was joking, but he simply pulled a straight face and pointed to her tray again. She gave another scoff, rolling her eyes. "Ain't gotta patronize me, Dave, sheesh. Contrary to popular belief, I know how to eat, and the thought of havin' any tubes shoved anywhere right about now is enough to keep me eating. Don't treat me like an idiot." She glanced to her tray, before picking up her milk carton and holding it aloft, pinky out. "For you. Since you're a dick." She bumped it with his apple, as one would when giving cheers, before tearing into it. "'Sides, you won't be all alone. I'm pretty sure there's at least one person in here who ain't sick a you yet. You see the new kid Crayzee's been talkin' up?" She pointed over to Karkat. "Better swoop in and make friends fast, before Gamz tells him what an awful heathen you are and shit."  
  
Dave quirked a brow at the sight of the new patient, before shrugging and taking another bite of his apple. "Ehhh...the prepubescent Puerto Rican look ain't really doin' anything for me. Plus, he looks like a biter."  
  
"Pfff...did I SAY you had to fuck him? Sheesh. If I was gonna set you up with anybody, you're looking at her." She motioned to herself, sticking her tongue out and waggling her eyebrows, before taking a sip of her milk.  
  
"I think they'd revoke my gay card if I went out with you. Then I wouldn't be able to get my 10% discount at Target or anything. That'd suck, hardcore." He quipped in response, absolutely deadpan.  
  
"Ain't askin' you to top. You could close your eyes and think of Matthew McConaughey for all I care." She snickered, though she kept her voice low so that the nurses wouldn't hear.  
  
"Pssh...I doubt it. How long have you been on estrogen now, like, 8 months? I ain't no expert on McConaughey dick, but I'm pretty sure he outranks you." He replied with a smirk, earning a snort of a laugh and a shove to the shoulder from Meenah.  
  
"Ay, shuddup, that's low!" She didn't seem too personally offended, but it was certainly an unexpected comment. "I'm just sayin', if you're gonna be in here for god knows how long, might as well start butterin' up the newbies. It's better than pickin' fights with the regulars, y'know? Ain't like I'm gonna be in here to hold your hand this whole time, I got it easy. Branch out, man. Build up a posse, then get one of 'em to stab Nutso in his sleep. Simple as that." She finished off her milk, looking over her tray with a sense of disgust, before begrudgingly peeling open her cereal bowl. At least to make it look like she was trying.  
  
Dave smirked at the prospect, then shook his head. "I think you're mixing up "psych ward" and "prison" there, Meenah. But I guess having a few more members of Team Dave would help...god knows how long I'm gonna be crashing here, might as well." He shrugged, picking up his tray to get up and dispatch it back on the food cart.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Jade wore a small, tired smile as she wrote on the white board, drawing out the word 'Mindfulness' in squiggly whiteboard marker green, adding a little smiley face over the eye. Perfect. It wasn't like utilizing the whiteboard was an important part of the group she ran, but it was something that caught the eye. Plus, it was a way to pass the time as she waited for one of the nurses to bring the kids down to the group room. She hummed to herself, straightening the stack of worksheets on the table, before glancing over her shoulder as the door opened. Callie held the door, ushering those who chose to attend group into the room, including Karkat. Karkat didn't see the purpose, and would much rather be sitting in the other area watching TV, but after being told that TV wasn't allowed during group times, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter, outside of staying in his room and moping some more. A guy could only pity himself so much, after all.  
  
"Welcome to Mindfulness group, everybody! Please, take a seat anywhere." She motioned towards the table, as the patients made their way in, before picking up a clipboard and checking off names. "I see we have a lot more people than the last time I held Mindfulness group, so how about we start with a quick introduction? My name is Jade, I run a few different coping skills groups here. How about we go around and say our names and a little bit about ourselves?"  
  
Karkat took his seat, resting his chin on his hand. Were they really going to sit in a circle and introduce themselves? Talk about their feelings? He'd seen this kind of shit in movies, but it felt so surreal in practice. Like they were at some kind of AA meeting. Hell, this place probably _had_ AA meetings! He glanced over to the woman running the group, lowering his head as not to get called on, the same way one would in school. It seemed to work, for the most part, as she instead picked the guy sitting next to him. Wasn't that the guy Gamzee was talking about, the guy who had been here for two whole months? Maybe this would be interesting, at least to see why he'd been here. She took the empty seat next to Dave, right at the end of the table, and motioned towards him. "Dave?"  
  
Dave nodded, leaning back in his chair, arm hanging over the back. He wore a small smirk on his face, looking at his nails as to accentuate how totally cool and nonchalant he was. "Name's Dave. Well, that's the name the park ranger gave me when he found me, had to call me somethin' on account a me not bein' able to speak human and all." Jade wore a concerned smile as Dave went on, knowing full well that these were all false claims. "I was raised by wolves, hardly saw the light of day outside a my cave up until a few months ago when the boys in blue caught me tearing into a dear carcass, antler in my mouth like a hella cool chewtoy. They didn't know what to do with me, so they dropped me off here, where I've since learned the human language and developed a taste for food you don't have to kill. I still get the urge to piss on things to claim them as my own, but I think that's like, more of a Freudian thing than anything." He shrugged. Karkat didn't know if he was more amused or concerned about whether or not Dave actually believed what he was saying. Hell, it might even be true for all he knew, the kid looked battered...was that a black eye? Thankfully, Jade spoke up before Karkat had a chance to take his turn.  
  
"Well...that's a nice use of imagery, Dave! I think what Dave is using here is a metaphor for what he's been through. Sometimes, it's easier to deal with something if we put it into different terms. I'm sure plenty of you noticed on some of the psych tests you're given by your assigned psychiatrist that a lot of the questions on there are on there more than once, but worded differently. If Dave would rather view his past as him being in a wolves den, but free now, then that's a nice way of coping with things!" She grinned, before motioning to Karkat. "You must be...Karkat, right?" She glanced back to her clipboard. "Would you like to tell us a little about yourself?"  
  
Karkat looked to Dave, then back to Jade, crossing his arms. This was stupid. This whole singling him out thing was the last thing he wanted right about now. Shit. All eyes were on him. Better say something. "I'm Karkat. I'm a werewolf." He shrugged. He caught Dave smirk out of the corner of his eye, before pointing to the girl sitting to his other side. "That's all."  
  
"Another nice use of imagery there!" Jade nodded, trying to keep the group from delving into chaos by taking the sarcastic answers as genuine attempts to convey what they were thinking. For all intensive purposes, based on what she knew about their files, it was. Sometimes you just needed to read between the lines. "Rose?" She tilted her head, looking to the girl next to Karkat.  
  
"I'm Rose...Lalonde, for what it's worth. I know divulging things like last names at an institution such as this is viewed as damn near felonious in the Facebook era, but I feel like word would've gotten out on that matter one way or another. I'm here because my Mother considers this a punishment. A puppy who pissed on an expensive rug, then got tossed in a crate, indefinitely."  
  
"Lotta piss imagery goin' around here. Old Freud must be jackin' it in his grave." Dave added, making a stroking hand motion with his fist, causing Rose to smirk and Karkat to damn near snort in amusement.  
  
"Okay, that's...enough of that. Let's carry on." Jade spoke in a bit of a sterner tone, shaking her head and shooting Dave a look, before motioning to the next person in the circle. He stayed silent for an extended period of time, head resting in his arms, staring off to the side. She gave a small sigh, looking down to her clipboard agian. "You must be...Eridan, right? Sorry, like I said, it's been a few weeks since I last held group, I might not get everyone's names right."  
  
"Yeah." He muttered, not even looking over to her, hardly paying attention.  
  
"Hm...is your last name common? I think we have someone with the same last name in the adult unit!" Jade offered a small smile, trying to make idle conversation, at least to earn some form of response. She did finally earn Eridan's gaze, causing him to shoot her a glare.  
  
"No relation." He was all too quick to quip, tone harsh and defensive. "We're...not related. Ya ain't the first to make that wild assumption." He ran a hand through his hair. "Just go to the next person or somethin'. I ain't here to dole out forced pleasantries." He scoffed. "Can you have someone take me back to the unit? I think I'm gonna head back to bed or somethin'."  
  
Jade sighed, offering a small nod. "I can call someone up after we're done going around the circle...but are you sure you don't want to stay for group?" She offered him a smile, though he simply continued to glare at her.  
  
"The groups get pretty fuckin' repetitive after a while...ain't gonna get outta here until my court case is over anyways. Ain't no point in the matter." He grumbled. "Just move on to the next person."  
  
"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way! I'll call up one of the nurses to take you back in a moment." She nodded. Karkat silently wondered if he could request to go back as well, though the lady running the group seemed pretty nice, as much as this was a miserable experience, the least he could do is make her day a little easier by participating. It was stupid, but Karkat was far too much of an empath to downright spit in her face by telling her that her group isn't worthy of his presence.  
  
"...Me, then?" Tavros motioned to himself, even though it was obvious, considering he was the one seated next to Eridan. "Okay. Uh. Right. I'm Tavros. And....I like dogs? I know that doesn't quite...like...go with the imagery exercise, but...those three brought up like...dogs...and wolves...and I like dogs!" He stated with a small, goofy smile.  
  
"That's nice, Tavros!" Jade nodded, her smile becoming a little more genuine. "I like dogs too. You're up, Gamzee!"  
  
"Awww...c'mon, Tav's a hard act to follow." He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. Gamzee had a weirdly disarming nature to him when he wasn't on a rage spiral. Karkat had caught onto this early on in their friendship, how he would be all nice and calm and then something would set him off out of the blue. He glanced back to the woman running the group. She seemed mildly concerned under the smile she wore when Gamzee spoke...did she catch on to the cycle as well? "A'ight...I'm Gamzee...18...Capricorn...y'all know me." He shrugged. "Ain't nothin' I can say that ain't already been said, y'know?" He pointed off to the next person in the circle.  
  
Just as the other person was about to speak up, the door to the group room was opened. A woman, dressed a little more professionally than the other nurses, like one would working in an office environment, peeked in. "Hello...can I have Karkat for a moment?" She offered Jade a polite smile, who nodded in response. Karkat glanced up to the woman, deeply confused as to what this was about, though she elaborated for him once he stood up. "Hello Karkat, I'm Dr. Lalonde, a psychiatrist with the hospital. I'd like to talk with you for a moment."


	4. ROSE LALONDE: DAY 2

* * *

 

**[ x ] KARKAT VANTAS**

**[    ] ROSE LALONDE**

**[    ] ERIDAN AMPORA**

**[    ] MARLYN "MEENAH" PEIXES**

**[    ] DAVE STRIDER**

* * *

 

 

Karkat hated wearing these scrubs. Not only were they ungodly uncomfortable and had an overwhelming smell of rubbing alcohol for some reason, but they had no pockets. Karkat hated not having pockets. He was a pretty awkward person who never had any idea what to do with his hands, and he typically wore hoodies with a large stomach pocket to stuff his hands in. Since he didn't have any pockets, he held his hands in fists at his sides as he followed after the woman. He had no idea what they were doing, what questions he was supposed to ask, how he could convince her to let him out of here...so he fell silent, following the reflection of the overhead fluorescent lights shining on the polished floor below, walking along it like a bored child might walk along a curb.

"So. You got in rather late last night, did you get enough sleep?" The woman wore a small, polite, professional smile, holding a hefty binder of files at her side as she made her way down the hall, occasionally glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Karkat was still following her, instead of dashing for the nearest open door. "I know first nights can be pretty scary, especially when it's your first time being hospitalized and we're so full at the moment."

"No more than usual. I had a pretty hard time getting comfortable. They only gave me one blanket and one pillow." Karkat spoke up, then paused for a moment. "I guess that's kind of a petty thing to be upset about. But...just saying." He muttered, not raising his gaze from the floor.

"That's understandable." She nodded, stopping by the door to a small, office area, as evident by the small window on the door. She pulled on the ID pinned to her shirt, which had an extending cord so that she could use it to open doors without removing it from her shirt. She flicked the light on in the office, and held the door to usher Karkat in. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Once Karkat stepped into the office, he plopped down on a small, padded chair facing the desk, looking around at the various degrees on the wall, as well as the small collection of cat knickknacks on the desk. It was certainly a far more welcoming environment than the rest of the hospital, but that wasn't saying much. He continued to avert his gaze from her, simply observing the office instead.

"Would you like some extra blankets once you return to the unit? I'm sure if you asked your nurse nicely she'd get you a few more. If not, you can have your father bring one in for you! I can provide a list of items you're allowed to have on the unit, if you'd like." Dr. Lalonde took her seat at the desk, setting the binder down and flipping through a few pages.

"Sure...I guess...thanks." He shrugged, looking to his hands, deciding to start chewing on his thumbnail so he could have something to do while he waited for this exchange to end. He did note earlier that some of the other patients wore normal clothes, so the idea of having his father bring him stuff from home was a slightly pleasant thought. It would be nice, to have his own blanket and his own clothes.

"Mmhm." She stopped at the page with his name on it, looking over the paperwork from his admission. She then pulled out the pen that was clipped along the ring of the binder, clicking it open. "How are you feeling this morning? Any thoughts of suicide or self harm right now?"

"What? No." He shook his head, dropping his hand back into his lap. "Look. I'm not crazy. I say a lot of shit that I don't mean when I'm pissed off, but I'm not crazy. I don't belong here." He scoffed.

She simply nodded, writing down a few things on the piece of paper she was turned to, in the kind of unintelligible chickenscratch script that doctors often had at a glance. Karkat sat up a little, attempting to see what she was writing down, but to no avail. "Well, I spoke with your father this morning about what happened. I'd like to get some bloodwork from you and have you fill out a few tests for me." She opened her desk drawer, looking through a few different folders before pulling out a few sheets of paper. One sheet was a list of items patients could bring in from home, the others had a series of questions on them, with bubbles to fill in. She slid them across the desk, and Karkat promptly picked them up to look through them.

"You talked to my Dad about it? The fuck does he know, he probably put some sort of spin on it to make me look like the bad guy here." He finally looked up to her, glaring her down. "This is all unnecessary. I got pissed off. I said some stupid shit. I did some even more stupid shit. It isn't going to happen again."

"I understand what you're saying, but your father is very concerned about you. From what I can tell from my conversation with him, this wasn't the first thing that this happened, and that you've voiced feelings of depression and suicide ideation in the past. I agree, that's definitely not the whole story here, but if your father is concerned, that gives us reason to be concerned as well." She elaborated, with a concerned furrow of her eyebrows. "I know it's scary, but we're here to help you."

He grumbled, looking over the questions on the form. Some were simple, about how often he ate and slept, but some were a bit more intrusive, like if he got bullied at school or if he thought about how much easier peoples lives would be if he disappeared. "I'm not crazy. This was just...a mistake. A stupid mistake along a long line of other stupid mistakes, because I can't help but fuck up at every turn." He gave a small, pathetic laugh, voice cracking as he began to well up. "I'm not crazy! This is just...stupid. I'm stupid. That's all this is." He pulled up the neck of his scrubs to wipe his nose, causing the doctor to hand him a tissue from her desk instead, which he accepted with a small polite nod. "I don't...want to...I mean I couldn't kill myself even if I did want to. I'd probably fuck that up too, end up surviving, end up losing a kidney or something instead." He blew his nose on the tissue, giving little huffs and sobs as tears ran down his face. "I'm not crazy...I just feel like shit sometimes, but I deal with it just fine on my own. Not like anyone ever took the time to notice, anyway, why should I burden anyone with the shit I feel? Nobody cares. Nobody gives two shits that I feel like this. Why bother?" He sighed, sinking into his chair.

Dr. Lalonde wrote a few things down, nodding along as he spoke. "I assure you, there are plenty of people that care about you. I don't think your father would've brought you in if he didn't realize that you needed help."

"Bullshit. He just didn't want to deal with me anymore. Not that I'd blame him, either. He's probably happy to have me out of the house." His tone had gone from a defensive level of snarky responses to something much smaller, meek, like he was the smallest person in the world right now.

"I'm sure your father loves you very much, and just wants you to get help. Perhaps you should call him after group and talk to him about this." She closed the binder. "I want you to take a moment and fill that out as truthfully as possible when you get a chance, then turn it in to your nurse. Think you can do that for me?"

"Yeah..." He flipped through the sheets he was handed. "But...then what'll happen? What's the point in me filling this out?" He looked back to her, trying to stifle his tears to the best of his ability.

"Well, that's a general diagnostic quiz. If it comes back inconclusive on any one diagnosis, then we release you once we deem you stable enough to leave. If it comes back and shows that you have...say...clinical depression, then we work on treating that. Typically, what we do is prescribe medication if we see it fit, then offer you recommendations to therapists and psychiatrists in the area."

Karkat wrinkled his nose at the prospect of being medicated. He mulled over the idea of answering it as if he was just fine...but with how he had just opened up to her about wanting to be dead, he felt that might no longer be an option. She probably wrote down that he wanted to kill himself for all he knew. "...How long do you think I'm going to be here?" He peeped up.

"That's hard to say this early on, so I can't give you a concrete answer just yet." The doctor shook her head. "However, if you continue to participate in groups and tell us exactly how you're feeling, the shorter your stay will be." She added. "I know a lot of people in your situation think that they can shorten their stay by lying about how they're feeling, but we'd rather you tell us exactly how you're feeling so that we can fix it, instead of lying and ending up back here in a week. Like I said, we're here to help you, but it's up to you to let us help you." She stated, with a small, polite smile.

Karkat gave a worried furrow of his brows when she brought up lying. Did that annoying nurse that did his intake say something about him not talking? He had a hard time believing that he could shorten his stay by telling people how miserable he truly was...but she seemed nice. A little patronizing, but still nice. It almost made him believe for a second that this might be a worthwhile experience for him. "So...I could be out in 72 hours?" He elaborated, with a tilt of his head.

"That's certainly a possibility! Though, I wouldn't rest all of your fate on that. We'll still try to get you out of here as soon as you're ready. We need the beds right now, so we wouldn't keep you here for longer than you need to be." She nodded. "My advice to you is to worry less about when you're going to get out, and focus more on yourself. Now...any other questions before we head back to the group room?"

He silently shook his head. It wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was...something. He balled up the tissue in his fist, holding the sheets of paper in his other hand, and stood up, prepared to follow her back.

 

* * *

**\---  
**

**Rose Lalonde  
**

**F**

**12/4/00**

**Allergies: N/A  
**

 

**Diagnoses:  
**

**Borderline Personality Disorder**

**Bipolar Disorder**

 

**Medications:  
**

**Lithium 600mg**

**\---**

 

* * *

Nothing too eventful seemed to happen in the group as Karkat returned. He sniffled a little, trying to play it off like he wasn't just crying, and calmly returned to his seat. Another sheet of paper and a pencil were waiting for him at his place at the table, this one appearing to be a worksheet about coping skills. He set the papers he'd been given by Dr. Lalonde over top of it, picking up the pencil to begin filling them out. He stared at the little bubbles, running over the answers in his head. Did she really mean it when she said he'd be out of here earlier if he told the truth? Fuck it. Here went nothing.

Dr. Lalonde stood in the doorway, carrying the binder from before. She looked over the group, when her eyes fell on Rose. "Rose?" She motioned for the girl to follow her. The smile she wore felt a little more forced in that moment, as the girl stood up to follow her, her own expression somewhat blank, if not a little skeptical. She rose from her seat without a word, following after the doctor as instructed. The walk down to the office was uncomfortably quiet, as were the first few moments once they entered the office. Rosalyn calmly opened up the binder, flipping to Rose's name.

"I am currently of no harm to myself or others." Rose stated off the bat, not even allowing the woman to open her mouth.

"That's good." The doctor simply nodded, writing down Rose's response to the question she didn't even need to ask. "Your Lithium levels on admission were incredibly low. Have you been taking your medication every day." Rosalyn got straight to the point, holding just as much of a no-nonsense attitude as Rose was at the moment.

"That seems like something of a rhetorical question. If I said yes, that would put you in a position of raising my Lithium dosage, which would be incredibly hazardous to my health if I were lying. If I said no, you'd hold me here longer under the guise that I'm not stable enough to be outside of a controlled environment. Granted, I'm fairly certain you already know the answer, and your asking as a formality." Rose crossed her legs, idly bouncing her foot. "No. I have not been taking my medication."

"Yes. Well. I'm sure you're already aware that bipolar is a diagnosis caused by a chemical imbalance, and that taking your medication is just as important as attending therapy to your recovery." Rosalyn idly fiddled with the pen in her hand, at something of a loss for words. "What have you been doing with the pills?"

"Recovery?" Rose spoke in a skeptical tone, raising an eyebrow. "I'm fairly certain that having to take medication for the rest of your life isn't recovery. Recovery implies that I'm eventually going to heal enough not to need medication. There is no recovery in mental illness, Rosalyn, only making yourself a bit less of a burden to others by shoveling down chemicals in hopes that they'll dope you up enough not to have the energy to hop off a building." She gave something of an annoyed sigh. "If I said that I was flushing them, would you search my room regardless?"

"Already in the process of doing that, I'll be sure to clean up the mess once you return home, don't worry." The doctor replied, quite blunt about it. "We're going to keep you on hold here until your Lithium levels are back up, as long as that might take, then most likely move you over to partial hospitalization." She jot down a few more things, before closing the binder.

"Does the hospital director know that you're handling my case yourself, Rosalyn?" Rose ignored the statement about her treatment plan, instead tilting her head and cocking a brow. "Or is this just another violation of your oath among a long list of hypocrisy?" Her tone was almost patronizing towards her Mother, a small smirk crossing her face.

"I can assure you that treating you is perfectly legal, and I'm holding no bias over this situation." She avoided a direct answer. "I feel I made the right choice in putting myself in charge of your case, considering I know your case like the back of my hand."

"It's still frowned upon, legal or not, to lock your child in a mental hospital as a means of punishment." Rose shrugged.

"It isn't punishment. It's genuine concern. I hope that some day you might understand the difference." Rosalyn sighed, dropping her professionalism for a moment in order to quip back. The response certainly resonated with Rose, who sat up a bit more.

"How about the patient you've kept here for two months? I'm fairly certain that someone is bound to catch on that he's uninsured, even if I don't put in a call about it. And I do know who to call to report you. My mother works for the hospital, you know." She smirked, the last sentence oozing with sarcasm.

"...I don't know what you're talking about. We wouldn't house a patient without proper insurance, much less for two months. I'm sure whoever you were speaking to on the matter was mistaken on their situation." Rosalyn looked to the side, closing the binder.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out that someone in an abusive situation such as his would most likely lack proper insurance. People talk, Rosalyn. I get it. You have this preconceived notion that you're a good person doing good things here. Why would you want to turn down a kid with nowhere else to go?" Rose knew for a fact that she had her right where she wanted her. "I'd like to work with Damien Droog instead of working with you. I understand that he's adult psych, but I feel like he'd handle my case a bit more...gracefully...than you would. Could you put in an order for that for me?"

"...I'll see what I can do." Rosalyn nodded, standing up in one sharp movement. "Let's take you back to the group room."

 

 

 


	5. SAUL SHEPERD: DAY 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damien Droog begins his daily rounds, including meeting with a patient from his past.

* * *

 

 

**[    ] SAUL SHEPARD**   
  
**[    ] CRONUS AMPORA**   
  


* * *

  
Droog took a sip from his travel mug, seated at a table in the nurse's lounge as he looked over the two names on the clipboard. Droog prided himself on his one on one interactions with patients, and having a smaller patient base meant it was easier to get to know the people he worked with, rather than having six or so patients in his care at a time and having all of their notes get mixed together in his head.  He was a specialist, after all, taking too many patients that didn't fall into his particular line of work was downright tiring, and a waste of his time. He tapped the back of his pen against the clipboard, taking another sip from his mug. Who to subject himself to first?  
  
Rosalyn opened the door to the lounge, peering in, and perking up once she saw Damien. Of course he couldn't get a single moment alone to start his day. He glanced over to her, though he didn't offer much for a formal greeting. Maybe she was just in here for an early lunch, or looking for someone else. "Damien. Can I talk to you for a moment? It's about a patient of mine..."  
  
"I don't _do_ kids, Rosalyn. Talk to me when she turns 18." He stated, quite bluntly, clicking the coffee mug closed, raising to his feet, and picking up the clipboard. Best choose one of these two before he gets roped into adding a third.  
  
"This isn't about Meenah Peixes...this time, at the very least, which I'd genuinely like you to reconsider..." Droog quirked a brow at her, leading her to trail off. "Another patient of mine has been requesting you by name, I just need you to officially decline her. I feel hearing it from you would be more beneficial than her hearing it from me." Rosalyn opened up her binder, pulling out a sheet of paper and offering it to him.  
  
He opted to humor her, taking the sheet from her and tacking it to his clipboard to sign it, only looking looking over with mild interest. "No history of gender dysphoria...no history of abuse...what is it, hypersexuality brought on by the bipolar?" He quirked a brow, actually mildly curious as to how she knew of him if she didn't fit his usual patient base.  
  
"Not that I'm aware of. She just requested you over any of the doctors on the children's unit." Rosalyn maintained as professional and straightfaced a stance as possible as she spoke. Droog looked her over for a moment, before pulling his pen from his pocket again, signing off on the piece of paper, though not for the sake of denying the patient.  
  
"Don't move her over to the adult ward, the last thing we need is a child over here. I'll meet with her on the matter after I've done my rounds." He muttered, handing the paper back to her.  "Now, if you'll excuse me..." He made his way past her, coffee in one hand, clipboard in the other. His best guess was that miss Rose L. was yet another gay teen that'd seen an overzealous expose in the paper about how wonderful his work was. Might as well play the part of a gentleman and turn her down in person, hopefully knock the idea out of her head and make her a little easier to work with. Besides, speaking with a fan was probably going to end up being far more pleasant than speaking with either of his patients.  
  


* * *

  
  
**\---**   
  
**Saul Shepard**   
  
**M**   
  
**7/24/75**   
  
**Allergies: N/A**   
  
  
**Diagnoses:**   
  
**Delusions (noted on admission)**   
  
**Hallucinations (noted on admission)**   
  
  
**Medications: N/A**   
  
**\---**   
  
_Patient was brought in on [REDACTED] by Officer [REDACTED]. Found trespassing on private property, brought in for questioning regarding a case involving the location. Began bashing his head against the wall of his holding cell, required restraint. Placed in solitary until further notice._

* * *

  
  
Droog pressed his ID to the reader of the door, separating the general adult unit from solitary. He took a deep breath, instantly regretting it. God, did they _ever_ clean this place? He wrinkled his nose, though tried to maintain his composure, making his way down the line of rooms towards one in particular, noting the patient inside was, in fact, softly thumping his head against the wall, right in the line of sight of both the window on the door and the camera inside the room. Droog gave a sharp sigh out his nose, and swiped his ID to step inside, opening the door with the sleeve of his shirt and closing it with the heel of his shoe. "Good morning, I'm Dr. Damien Droog-Crocker, I'm a psychiatric specialist and I'll be working with you throughout the remainder of your stay." He spoke in a detached monotone, holding his posture tall and his clipboard to his chest. Unlike Dr. Lalonde, he'd perfected the art of turning off any bias he may have for the sake of his job, even if certain college zines pegged him as some sort of martyr swooping in and saving troubled members of the LGBT community from their miserable, pathetic lives.  
  
Mentioning his hyphenated last name was simply further means of detachment.  
  
Saul glanced up from where he'd been butting his head against the wall, the sting settling and hitting him once he stopped. He hadn't been full on bashing it like he was before, but since there was a camera in here and he had nothing else to do in this little white box, might as well put on a show while he wasn't sleeping off his stay. He looked to Droog, and turned to face him, eyes wide like a kid who got caught opening his Christmas presents. Or a guy who ran into his ex at the grocery store, only his ex was now a millionaire who was married to three beautiful models and he was still living in a basement and working at his stepdad's used car dealership. It was enough to make a guy stare for a moment.  
  
Droog cleared his throat, then looked back to his clipboard. "So, I'm assuming that you're still experiencing feelings of self harm, as evident by your head bashing there. I'd advise you not to do that, or else you may end up restrained or sedated...." He paused, tapping his pen to his clipboard again. "You wouldn't like sedation. It's more like a swift kick to the head than an actual means of getting high."  He added, quite bluntly.  
  
Saul stayed silent, idly scratching at his wrist. Big mouth or not, the guy knew to shut up in a bugged room, not to mention in a bugged room with a guy who had every right to rat him out.  
  
"The cam doesn't have a mic," Droog muttered, leaning against the door, blocking out the window at the very least, and pointing to the camera in the room with his pen. "I understand that people in your situation may fear that someone is listening in on you, but the camera is mainly there so that the nurses can check in on you to make sure you're getting enough sleep and not doing anything to harm yourself. Granted, they don't seem to be doing a very good job if you're in here bashing your head against the wall." He shrugged.  
  
Saul looked to the camera, squinting at it, as if attempting to disprove Droog and find a microphone somewhere on the camera. Droog had every right to swindle him out of any information he might have. The bastard was crafty like that, he could say shit like there wasn't an elephant in the room and make you believe it, even when a giant pachyderm has stomped you into a pile of blood and broken limbs in your own living room.  
  
Figures the bastard found himself a job messing with people's heads after he left the crew.  
  
"You don't have to believe me." Droog hummed, not looking up from his clipboard, for the sake of avoiding eye contact rather than actually reading the file. He knew this file like the back of his hand by now. Hell, he practically snatched it out of the hands of whatever poor sap would've had to deal with Saul's bullshit the second he saw the name. Dumb fuck couldn't even bother to change his alias in the past seven years. Typical Jack. "You just have to talk to me. It'd make things a lot easier for the both of us if you actually said something."  
  
"I ain't got nothin' to say to you." Saul quipped, nearly cutting him off. He went back to offering him the silent treatment after that, attempting to stare him down, when Droog didn't even bother to look up and humor his little attempts at intimidation.  
  
"Like I said. It'd make things a lot easier for the both of us." Droog repeated himself. "Though we don't like to acknowledge the comparison, a mental facility functions in a manner identical to a prison. If you learn to behave, keep to yourself, and don't ruffle any feathers, you get out faster. If you fight it the entire time, kicking and screaming, you end up staying in solitary indefinitely. Simple as that." He shrugged, keeping a flat tone. He knew he was the one with the power here, and he knew that Saul knew that too. It was simply a matter of wearing him down, as it always was with him. "Granted, I'd assume you'd prefer to be in our care, instead of us simply putting you back into the hands of the legal system...yes?" He added, in a slightly more patronizing tone.  
  
Saul continued to glare at him for a moment, before scoffing and throwing his arm up in frustration. "Fuckin' christ...way to give a guy options." He huffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Fine. Sure. Whatever. What, do we talk about my feelin's or somethin'?" He quipped, albeit sarcastically.  
  
"Typically, yes." Droog finally looked up, looking him over. "How about we start with how you ended up in the custody of the police. Do you remember what happened? From what I've seen, nobody has been able to get a straight answer out of you." He played along, even though he was fairly sure Saul was faking it to dodge whatever charges would've been pressed against him had they found out about his true motives...whatever his true motives may have been.  
  
"I dunno. I don't remember a lot of that." Saul glanced to the side, scratching at his wrist again. "It just kinda happened. I don't remember."  
  
"Interesting." Droog spoke with toxic levels of sarcasm. "Well, I can refresh your memory, if you'd like." He continued anyway. "You were found outside the home of Doc and Sabrina English, taking photos of the residence. A neighbor reported you for suspicious activity, you were brought in for questioning, and you began speaking nonsense and banging your head against the wall. Does that sound about right to you?" He added with a quirk of his brow.  
  
"I guess." Saul gave a single shoulder shrug. "Doesn't really ring a bell. Kinda blanked out the whole thing." He brought his finger to his temple, though he kept his glance to the side.  
  
"Of course." Droog clipped his pen to his pocket, tucking his clipboard under his arm and taking a single step forward. "It makes a lot of sense. A wealthy family like the English family must have a lot of power. Surely, there's something there that doesn't quite click with you. Something that seems off. Something worth investigating. Do you feel that the Scratch family is covering up some sort of conspiracy?" He gave a slight tilt of his head, looking Saul dead on.  
  
"What? What are you gettin' at?" Saul finally returned his glance to Droog, attempting to get some sort of read on him, with no clue what he was talking about.  
  
" _Saul_." Droog repeated himself. " _Do you feel that the English family is covering up some sort of conspiracy_?"  
  
Saul stared at him for a moment longer, before nodding. "Yes. I feel like the English family is covering up some sort of conspiracy." He repeated Droog, in a quiet monotone.  
  
With that, Droog took his clipboard from under his arm and began writing. "Well, as your assigned psychiatrist, I don't have any reason to suspect any criminal activity. You've clearly shown symptoms of experiencing delusions, which we'll have to look into further, but as your psychiatrist, I have no reason to suspect you of actually planning any form of criminal activities. This was simply another case of law enforcement mistaking psychosis based behavior for criminal behavior." He praddled on, relatively fast paced, as he finished writing. "Once we get you stable, you should be fine."  
  
"Huh." Saul blinked a few times, struggling just a bit to keep up with the pace of his words, though genuinely impressed. Droog was able to verbalize the scam Saul was pulling ten times better than Saul was. "Okay."  
  
"Good." Droog nodded. "Now, do you have any questions for me?" He added, as something of a formality, though also as a chance to pass on any other information Saul might need in pulling whatever he was pulling here. Droog chose to look the other way without asking questions. It was best never to involve yourself in Saul's bullshit, the entertainment of the drama wasn't worth the drama itself. That was why he left. It was far more convenient for him to simply play along than to turn Saul in, especially considering Saul had every right to name Droog if he was ever caught on gang activities.  
  
"Just one." Saul cocked a brow, motioning towards Droog's hospital ID now that he was close enough that Saul could make out the words. "How does a guy get roped into bein' called a 'sex therapist' and how'd I get roped with one?" He gave a smirk, amused by the title.  
  
"Oh. That." Droog hummed, glancing down to his ID, as if he had completely forgotten his own title. "I'm given patients outside of my specialty all the time. As for the title, it's a high-demand field that pays pretty well. You have to have thick skin to do what I do. You wouldn't believe the kind of people that those in my line of work are required to humanize and defend. It's...a challenge, knowing that certain people can't be helped. Sometimes you just have to vie for time and pray they don't slip up...or even, pray they don't slip up _again_."


	6. CRONUS AMPORA: DAY 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diamonds Droog attempts to assist his other patient, Cronus Ampora, who isn't receptive to any form of change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE CHAPTER NOTES BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO THIS CHAPTER!
> 
> Hoooooooooo boy. I've been dreading uploading this story arc for a while now, because I know no amount of forewarning is gonna prevent me from getting flack for it...but I'm gonna try and explain this chapter anyway.
> 
> Those of you who read the chapter notes for the first chapter may recall that I stated from the very start that this would be a realistic depiction of mental illness and a mental hospital setting, based on my own experience. As such, there are also going to be realistic depictions of abuse...meaning that this chapter and the one following it are going to involve an abuser whose victim is still attached to them. Abuser glorification by victims who view receiving attention from their abuser as a positive thing because they've been manipulated into thinking so BY the abuser is a very real thing that happens, and something that I have personal experience with.
> 
> This chapter, and the one following it, are not intended to glorify abuse, but rather, to portray an abusive situation in which the victim isn't yet aware that they are a victim. To portray how the system defends abusers. To be...well...realistic about the concept of abuse.
> 
> I am only tagging this as Cronus/Eridan as a trigger warning, this is not intended to be an Amporacest fic.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

* * *

**\---**

**Cronus Ampora  
**

**M**

**2/15/98**

 

**Allergies: N/A**

 

**Diagnoses:  
**

**Borderline Personality Disorder**

**Histrionic Personality Disorder**

**History of Physical Abuse**

 

**Medications: N/A**

**\---**

_Patient is on court mandated hold until [REDACTED]._

* * *

 

 

Droog sighed out his nose as he stood outside the doorway of his second patient's room, standing enough to the side that he wouldn't be seen by the occupant unless they left the room. Not like he'd leave his room for anything other than food or television hours regardless. Court mandated patients are always the hardest to work with. Children might buckle down and listen to authority after enough time passes, but adults will fight you the entire way if you lock them up against their will. This particular patient was especially miserable to work with, barely old enough to be on the adult ward, but old enough not to view anyone else as an authority figure anymore.

He wasn't getting paid nearly enough defend this kid in court, that's for damn sure.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, before straightening his posture, holding his clipboard to his chest and knocking against the door frame, before stepping inside.

As expected, Cronus was lying in his bed, arms behind his head and legs crossed, one foot idly bouncing. He was currently chewing on the plastic straw from his water cup as some form of entertainment. God, this place was a total snoozefest when they turned off the TV. He perked up when he heard Dr. Droog walk in, setting his cup on his nightstand and sitting up, offering a smirk and a wave of his hand. "Hey hey, Dr. Droog. What's the good news, pal?"

"No updates on the legal side of things, sadly." He muttered the last bit, glancing to his clipboard, if only not to have to look at the kid. "Any present feeling of dealing harm to yourself or others?"

"Hey, Droog, buddy! Do ya really gotta ask that every time? Makin' a guy feel like a crazy person here." Cronus frowned. "You know me. I ain't got any a' that goin' on!" He insisted, with a wave of his hand.

"It's protocol, especially considering the fact that you have BPD. You're at a high suicide risk, if I were to cut any corners in assuming you're not presently suicidal, it'd be a risk to your safety and the safety of those around you." Droog stated, marking off Cronus's answers on his sheet.

"I feel that, it's just kinda patronizing, y'know? I mean, I'm already locked up here, ain't gotta like...interrogate me." Cronus gave a forced chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, like...speakin' a diagnoses and all...you uh...made up your mind on that one?" He quirked a brow, not elaborating further.

"On whether or not you fit the diagnostic profile for Pedophilic Disorder?" Droog stated, quite bluntly, not even bothering to look up.

Cronus winced as he spoke, lowering his head, even though they were the only two in the room. "Sheesh, do you really gotta keep callin' it that? Makin' a guy feel like a criminal over here!" He huffed, adjusting his hair again. "But yeah. Like...I deserve a concrete answer on what's goin' on here, right? I'm the one with my head on the choppin' block here, y'know?"

"Oh, I wouldn't keep your diagnoses from you, I assure you." Droog hummed. "I went over the DSM-5 criteria for Pedophilic Disoder quite thoroughly, and I've come to the conclusion that you don't fit it..."

"Oh, thank god." Cronus gave a relieved sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"...On a technicality." Droog finished, glancing up from his clipboard with an annoyed squint at being cut off.

Cronus glanced back to him, quirking a brow. "Whadya mean..."technicality"?" He tensed up, the small moment of relief immediately fleeting.

"The DSM criteria states that the child must be at least five years younger than the offender. Your stepbrother is only three years younger than you." Droog stated, tucking his clipboard under his arm but continuing to fiddle with his pen. "You're not a pedophile, psychologically speaking, you're just a..." He cut himself off, clicking his pen a few times, before pointing it to Cronus. "An opportunist. Someone whose mental illness and history of abuse threw off their moral compass." He pulled the explanation out of his ass, but it sounded much more graceful than it really was, the kind of statement he could use in court without outright alluding to the fact that Cronus committed a crime.

"...Huh." Cronus blinked a few times, before nodding. "Alright. That makes sense. I getcha." He sat up a bit. "Need anythin' else from me then? I gotta make a phone call."

"Nothing else. I'll let you know if I have any updates." Droog nodded, before stepping out, eager to get out of there. Two out of two patients treated, time to go home and take a long shower until the lingering feeling of disgust with the human race was gone.

\---

Cronus stepped out of his room, glancing about. The adult ward was nearly empty, safe for a few nurses. The rest of the patients must still be at group. He looked down the hall, noting one of his favorite nurses had just started his afternoon shift. Cronus stepped over to the nurse, who was currently doing room checks to see who was and wasn't at group.

"Hey uhh...Kankri?" Cronus muttered, arms crossed and posture as straight as possible.

"One moment, Cronus." Kankri replied, not offering him eye contact, but instead keeping his glance to his checklist, continuing to walk down the hall. "I'm doing rounds at the moment, but I'm sure someone else can help you." He added, attempting to evade any conversation with him, which was hard when Cronus was repeatedly trying to talk to him.

"It'll be quick, promise." Cronus replied, following after him as he made his way along the hallway. "I just...uhh...do you think I'm a monster, Kankri?"

Kankri halted, looking up from his checklist to stare straight ahead, attempting to mentally formulate some sort of answer to that question. "That isn't the word I'd personally use, no. Unfortunately, I don't have time to talk, perhaps we can discuss this more later." He stated, before continuing forward, at a bit of a faster pace than before.

Cronus wasn't even offered a chance to respond. He sighed, before making his way over to the recreational area, sitting down next to the phone that hung on the wall. He picked it up off the receiver, looking at the master list of numbers next to the phone, and typing in the number for the children's unit.

_**"Hey there, is Eridan back from group yet?"** _


	7. ERIDAN AMPORA: Day 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eridan receives an unexpected call from the other side of the hospital. Later, Karkat decides to socialize a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE CHAPTER NOTES BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO THIS CHAPTER!
> 
> I'll just be repeating what I said in the previous chapter notes here:
> 
> Those of you who read the chapter notes for the first chapter may recall that I stated from the very start that this would be a realistic depiction of mental illness and a mental hospital setting, based on my own experience. As such, there are also going to be realistic depictions of abuse...meaning that this chapter and the one before it involve an abuser whose victim is still attached to them. Abuser glorification by victims who view receiving attention from their abuser as a positive thing because they've been manipulated into thinking so BY the abuser is a very real thing that happens, and something that I have personal experience with.
> 
> This chapter, and the one preceding it, are not intended to glorify abuse, but rather, to portray an abusive situation in which the victim isn't yet aware that they are a victim. To portray how the system defends abusers. To be...well...realistic about the concept of abuse.
> 
> I am only tagging this as Cronus/Eridan as a trigger warning, this is not intended to be an Amporacest fic.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

* * *

 

**\---**   
  
**Eridan O. Ampora**   
  
**M**   
  
**2/14/01**   
  
  
  
**Allergies: Peanuts**   
  
  
  
**Diagnoses:**   
  
**Borderline Personality Disorder**   
  
**Bipolar Disorder**   
  
**Breathing Condition NOS**   
  
  
**Medications: N/A**   
  
**\---**   
  
_Patient is on court mandated hold until [REDACTED]._

* * *

  
  
Eridan laid in his bed, pillow clung to his chest, staring up at the ceiling and idly listening to the sound of nurses shoes squeak up and down the halls. He spent a lot of time in here, rather than attending groups. The groups were pointless, he felt, as they seemed to recycle the same ludicrous poppycock about how regulating your breathing will help you stave off the looming feeling that you're at the end of your rope and it's time to shove your empty shell of a body straight off a bridge. The idea that a self proclaimed professional medical institution seemed to believe that yoga was still a viable option when it came to not wanting to kill yourself was downright ridiculous and not worth his time. Not like any of this was ever actually worth his time in the first place. He was here on an involuntary hold, nothing he did would get him out of this place any sooner. Why bother putting on the facade that this was actually helping him?  
  
It felt like an overreaction. A punishment. A scared straight program that got unruly teenyboppers out of their parents hair for a while. It was a ridiculous way for his father to force him into following his will without outright hitting him the way he did with Cronus. Eridan was the favorite son, after all; the only heir by blood to his father's fortune, and not some brat his father got stuck with after his ex-wife was arrested. Eridan was always put on a pedestal over Cronus...so why was he getting the same punishment here? He wasn't crazy. He wasn't breaking any laws. He wasn't completely irredeemable just yet.  
  
He wasn't Cronus.  
  
He closed his eyes with an elongated sigh, only to have his peace and quiet interrupted by a knock at his doorframe. He peered an eye open, noting that it was one of the other patients. Great, the riffraff was already back from group, just when he'd finally relaxed.  
  
"Hey uh, Eridan?" Tavros gave a small wave, then pointed over his shoulder. "Phone for you. Should I tell them you're sleeping?" He added with a tilt of his head, speaking in a soft tone as if not to disturb Eridan from what he percieved to be a nap.  
  
"Nah I'll...I'll get it." Eridan muttered, slightly annoyed, but he knew this was probably an important call or an update about his case. He hadn't informed anyone else that he was here, and he was damn sure his fahter wouldn't let news leak about any of this to anyone else in the family. He wasn't in a position to be ignoring any incoming calls. He sat up, setting his pillow aside, before rubbing his eye and raising to his feet, walking past Tavros with a small, appreciative nod.  
  
He sat down in the chair beside the phone, pulling the sleeve of his shirt over his hand to pick it up. He'd been here long enough to see what did and didn't get cleaned around here, he wasn't going to risk it. "Eridan Ampora speaking." He answered the phone with the kind of diction one would expect from someone with his kind of upper class background, a phony sense of formality that he'd been raised to express at all times by a father who could down a bottle of whiskey and attend a board meeting two hours later. Faking a sembalance of stability was practically in his blood.  
  
"There he is! I was startin' to worry they threw you in solitary or somethin'!" Cronus gave a small chuckle from the other end of the line, leaning against the wall beside the phone on the adult ward, though having to crouch due to how short the cord was. "How you doin'? Ain't talked to you in a while."  
  
Eridan nearly winced at the sound of his voice, lowering his head and peering around, as if anyone could tell at a glance who it was on the other line. "Fuckin' christ, Cro, what part of "no contact order" don't you understand? You're puttin' BOTH of our asses on the lines here, don't you think they record this shit?" He scoffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a small, stressed whine. He could already feel a migraine coming on.  
  
"Monitor, not record. S'illegal for them to record shit without our consent, it's like...intellectual property or somethin', inadmissible in court." Cronus shrugged it off, with no real clue as to if what he was saying was factual or not, but it sounded factual enough to him. "'Sides, I don't even think they do THAT, have you seen how lazy the staff here is? They ain't gonna bug us any." He gave a small smirk, lowering his voice to a feigned sweet and comforting tone. "Don't worry about it, baby. Did you miss me?"  
  
Eridan sunk in the chair, sighing out his nose and covering his face with his hand. "It's still a shitty idea. We ain't supposed to be fraternizing before court. Jesus." He bit his cheek, hearing Cronus's voice making him feel absolutely numb and he tried to ground himself. "That's besides the point."  
  
"Like I said, don't worry about it!" Cronus rolled his eyes. "Talked to my doc today, got this in the bag, I don't think either of us is gonna get into any serious trouble here. We're just two troubled teens who got caught at an...inopportune time by an unsupportin' father. This whole charade is just a formality at this point! We go into the courtroom, set the record straight, get outta this with our hides untanned." He held the phone against his ear with his shoulder, making a few motions with his hands as he spoke regardless of the fact that nobody was there to see them as a force of habit.  
  
"You're generalizin' pretty hard there, Cro." Eridan muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "It's not like I was ever in any trouble anyways...did he seriously say you're in the clear here? Sounds a lil hard to believe after everythin' that happened." He quirked a brow, attempting to process what Cronus was saying.  
  
"Yeah. He said that since I'm only three years older than you...no harm done! Like I said. We're just two misunderstood teenagers who had the misfortune of bein' born in the wrong years to the wrong families. Big whoop. Ain't like you're a little kid...or even actually my brother." He scoffed. "Why are you doubtin' me? I got this under control, Eri. Give me a little credit here!"  
  
"No harm done?" Eridan grumbled, sitting up a bit again. "I think the fact that we're both locked up like schizoids is evidence of harm done here! You seriously think we're gonna be able to go home after this and look Dad in the eye after all this? Just pretend none a this ever happened and be a happy fuckin' family?" He rose his voice a little, breathing heavily in his own irritation.  
  
"Ay, easy! Easy!" Cronus rose his voice a little as well, furrowing his brow. "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it, don't worry. Ain't they got you on copin' skill garbage too? One thing at a time. Let's just focus on getting our stories straight so we can make it outta there in one piece." He paused, pulling a malicious, dead eyed expression and lowering his voice. "Don't you think they'll keep you here for longer if you get hysterical like this in court? I don't want that for you, Eri. I'm bein' the better person here by helping to keep you out of here. All you gotta do is listen to me. Got it?"

Eridan gave a sharp sigh, slumping once more and rubbing his eye under his glasses with his free hand. "Fuckin...fine. Whatever. As long as it gets us outta this as fast as possible I ain't really in a position to complain. S'much as I still think this is a shitty idea." He grumbled, biting his cheek again.

"Good. That's better." Cronus gave a small, almost relieved sigh, pausing for a moment as his expression relaxed. "Now, when they ask you how long this has been goin' on, what do you say?" He spoke in a patronizing tone, like he was teaching a child to say please and thank you.

"...It was a one time thing. Nothin' more." Eridan muttered in response. He peered over his shoulder, noting a figure damn near hovering over him. Karkat stood behind him, arms crossed, clearly impatient. How long had he even been standing there. "Hang on....may I help you?" Eridan sneered, holding the phone to his chest.

"Yeah, are you almost done? The sign says fifteen minutes and I really need to call someone." Karkat tried not to seem too offputting, but after his mini-breakdown in front of the psych, he was ready to get his own clothes and his own blankets sent over.

Eridan let out a gross scoff, glaring Karkat down. "Ever heard 'a personal space? I'm havin' an important conversation here. Kindly situate yourself elsewhere." He made a 'shoo' motion with his hand.

"Hey. Look. I'm not here to start drama, I'm just saying, you've been on the phone for like, 20 minutes now." Karkat raised his hands up dismissively, teying not to seem too irritated, but he clearly failed as Eridan stood, easily over half a foot taller than Karkat, hanging up the phone wordlessly though keeping it in his grip.

"I have been trapped in this nuthouse for fourteen fuckin' days a' cold showers and itchy linens. If I wanna make a fuckin' phone call to entertain myself durrin' the non-television hours a' the day I ain't about to stop and humor some ditch digger with no sense a' personal space tryin' to waste my time. Th'next time you open your mouth to me you're gonna be missin' teeth, got it?" With that, Eridan shoved past him, roughly bumping shoulders with him as he made his way back to his room.

Karkat just stood there for a moment, blinking a few times as he watched Eridan stomp off. Did that really just happen? What an asshole. He made a mental note not to associate with him further in the future. He stalled for a moment longer, before sitting down, looking over the list of numbers on the wall briefly, before dialing up his Dad's. He let it ring about five times, before sighing and hanging up. Figures. Maybe he'd come and visit later. He stayed in his seat beside the phone for a moment, looking over the general TV area. A nurse hadn't come to turn the TV back on, so everyone seemed to be doing their own thing. Most of the others had returned to their rooms, though a few opted to stick around. Rose, if he recalled correctly, was seated on one of the armchairs, reading a generic looking book on coping skills. The other guy from the group, Dave, seemed to be getting on just fine laying on the couch, staring at the blank television, most likely waiting for it to be turned on. In the corner of the room was a long table, covered in puzzle pieces, where Gamzee's friend sat. Tav, from what he could remember. The guy seemed pretty nice, didn't seem to have a whole lot wrong going on with him. It's kind of weird, seeing someone that level headed associating himself with Gamzee. As he stared for a moment or so, Tavros glanced over to him, shooting him a grin and waving him over, motioning towards the puzzle he was working on.

 

Ehh. It beat waiting by the phone all morning. Karkat rose to his feet, shuffling over to the puzzle table.


	8. TAVROS NITRAM: DAY 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat learns about the many levels of mental illness through Tavros and Gamzee's relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy everyone! Sorry that last chapter there was kind of a half-chapter, these two chapters were intended to be a single chapter, but then I realized there's a strong chance that there will be people who skip over the Ampora arcs, so I figured I'd turn this whole interaction into its own chapter instead! Enjoy!

* * *

**\---**

**Tavros P. Nitram**  
  
**M**   
  
**04/30/01**   
  
  
  
  
  
**Diagnoses:**   
  
**Depressive Disorder NOS**

**Generalized Anxiety Disorder**  
  
  
**Medications:**

**Fluoxetine 10mg**

  
**\---**

**Projected discharge date is [REDACTED] unless otherwise specified by Dr. Maryam**

 

* * *

 

 

The table was covered in scattered puzzle pieces from various puzzles, some that clearly belonged to the boxes situated on the table, others of various miscelaneous sizes and colors that didn't seem to match one or another. The one that Tavros seemed to be working on featured three baby bunnies seated in pastel colored tea cups. Exactly the sort of disgustingly cute puzzle you'd expect to see at an older relatives house. Karkat took a seat beside Tavros, silently looking over the puzzle. He subtly wrinkled his nose at it. It reminded him of one of those cutesy motivational posters with the baby animals on them, the kind you'd see at the school counselors office. Something that was supposed to be calming but clearly only worked on those who suffered from surface level stressors, not those with debilitating depression. He was on to those bunnies. He knew what they were all about.

"Eheheh, hey! Sorry about uhh...Eridan there. He can be kinda...intense sometimes." Tavros shot Karkat a grin, glancing to him without making eye contact, instead fixing his gaze on Karkat's shoulder. He wasn't really one to make eye contact in general, much less with strangers, but he also wasn't one to come off as rude by barely acknowledging the other person.

"Noted." Karkat muttered, slouching to rest his head on his arm and look over the scattered puzzle pieces. "When do they turn the TV on again? The silence is kind of boring too deep into my psyche for my liking." He scratched his nose, before reaching out to examine one of the puzzle pieces.

"Oh...they usually do by now...but I'm pretty sure today is a Cal day. He doesn't really...he's...I'm sure someone will turn it on eventually." Tavros gave a small shrug, sifting through the small pile of puzzle pieces to his right before putting one of them in place. "Do you like cartoons? Eridan usually has it on the news all the time but...I'm pretty sure he's gonna go back to his nap so. I usually have it on cartoons when it's my choice!" He fumbled over his words a bit, tilting his head slightly with the question.

"As much as the next guy, I guess." Karkat gave a dismissive shrug. "I'd definitely take whatever rehash Cartoon Network is putting out this week over a constant reminder that the world is fucked twice over any day." He muttered, taking the piece in his hand and placing it somewhere in the middle of the frame of the puzzle where he assumed it went when the puzzle was full.

"Hahah, that's...that's funny." Tavros chuckled. "You're...Karkat right? Gamzee talks about you sometimes...like, even before you got here, actually."

Karkat blinked a couple times, squinting over at Tavros. "Yeah. Does he really talk about me?" He sat up a bit. He hadn't thought about Gamzee in years, the prospect of him actually caring about Karkat to that level was almost unsettling to him.

"Oh, yeah! Just like...how you were his best friend and stuff. And he tells this story about the time you guys stole wristbands from Hot Topic a bunch too." Tavros added with a small snicker.

"Oh my god, we were so lame." Karkat groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a pathetic sort of chuckle. "God, that was ages ago. I can't believe he still tells that story." He sighed, fiddling with another puzzle piece. "...Hey, so. Question." He sat up just a bit more.

"Yeah?" Tavros set down the piece in his hand, leaning his arms against the table and turning his full attention to Karkat.

"You seem like...shit, how do I put this?" He looked over his shoulder for a minute, trying to form the right words. "You seem...normal. I mean like, that's probably the most crass way of putting it but like...how does someone like you end up in a place like this?"  
  
"What like...what am I doing here?" Tavros tilted his head, wearing a small, almost concerned smile. "That's uhh...kind of a long story. But I guess I can kinda like...condense it." He looked up to the ceiling, tapping his fingers against the table. "This...this girl kinda like...made this Facebook page like...you know in those crappy Lifetime movies where the popular girls make gossip pages that say shit like..."if this gets 10,000 likes, Mary Sue has to kill herself"? It was...something like that. I kinda...took it to heart. Someone found me standing on top of the parking ramp near the mall and kinda...talked me down from it. Called an ambulance and they...they brought me here." He gave a shrug, speaking with a sense of levity. "I mean...I don't think I would've really done it, but...hey. Better safe than sorry, right?" He gave a pathetic little chuckle.

"Shit, dude." Karkat muttered, wide eyed at the story. "That's intense. I'm sorry you have to put up with that shit. That kinda blows my shit out of the water." He gave a stiff sigh out his nose, slinking down in his chair.

"Well...hey. We all cope with stuff differently, right? Isn't that one of those like...psychological buzzwords that gets thrown around here? The stuff I deal with isn't...your stuff...or...something." Tavros scratched the side of his jaw, looking over his shoulder as he tried to remember the saying. "Well. Anyway. We're both here for a reason...isn't that what matters? I mean...I know if I was back home right now all I'd be doing is staring at that page and...thinking not so nice thoughts about everyone involved with it." He muttered, dropping the polite smile for a moment with a small scoff. "People suck, dude."

"No argument there." Karkat raised his finger briefly in agreement, smooshing his cheek against his arm with a small sigh. "I hope my Dad calls back soon so I can get my own blankets and shit. I barely slept any last night." He rubbed his eye, giving a couple slow blinks.

"You should ask Callie for extra blankets! She's uhh...the nurse with the frog scrubs." He peered over Karkat's shoulder to see if she was out doing her rounds. "She gave me extra blankets when I asked...did you know they have like, a blanket warmer for warm blankets? Kinda makes up for how thin and sucky they are."

"Huh. Noted." Karkat gave a small, affirming nod. "Thanks. You're like...the nicest guy I've met since I got here. What's someone like you doing hanging out with Gamzee, if I may be disgustingly blunt?"

Tavros paused, smile faltering for a moment at the question, his gaze dropping to his puzzle. "I dunno, Gamzee's...nice. I mean...me liking someone shouldn't rest on how stable they are...right? I'm not just gonna like...not be friends with him because he has his own stuff to deal with." He muttered, posture shrinking a tad.

It was at that moment that Karkat realized just how much Gamzee must have talked about him, the insinuation felt like a punch in the face. He felt like Tavros was referencing exactly how his friendship with Gamzee ended. He stayed silent for a moment, staring blankly at the reflection of the lights above against the top of the table. He not only felt a sense of guilt, but a sense of dread. He knew exactly the position that Tavros was in, and he knew what it could do to someone as blindly optimistic and trusting as he seemed to be. He'd been there before. He knew how Gamzee operated. "Just don't get in too deep. It can really drain a guy." He muttered, before rising to his feet. "I'm gonna head back to my room. See ya around, Tavros." And with that, Karkat made his way down the hall, shuffling his feet as he returned to his room. Thankfully, Gamzee seemed to be elsewhere, so he had the room to himself. For now.


	9. KARKAT VANTAS: DAY 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat breaks down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!! Generic cliche fic writer apologies for not updating sooner, my etsy store recently picked up and I've been super busy with orders as of late! I'm not sure how frequently I'll be updating, but I have an outline of all of the arcs written up and they'll all have worthwhile endings, I assure you!

 

Karkat gave a small huff as he entered his room, flicking the light on only to be blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. He squinted, immediately turning it back off. He shuffled to sit on his bed, idly glancing at the various coloring pages and nonsense scribblings Gamzee had hung up. God, that guy had demons. He was always a nice person to talk to at lunch or hang out with in a group setting...but Karkat knew it was justifiable to not want to associate with him anymore. If not for the drugs and the violence, than for the fact that Karkat couldn't deal with babysitting him anymore. He had always felt that Gamzee was his responsibility in a way, that he'd be a shitty friend if he let Gamzee buy pills off a guy in the bathroom at the park or punch the pizza guy for getting his order wrong. That was his job. He was the stable one, he was supposed to keep Gamzee on his feet.

 

Then how did they both end up like this?

 

No. He wasn't "like this", he thought to himself. He wasn't crazy. Gamzee was on 10 levels of fucked up, Karkat was still the stable one. So he slipped up. So he got pissed off at his dad. So he broke down. Bullshit. He wasn't Gamzee. He sighed, laying back on his bed, only to tense back up to a knock at his doorframe. A short statured woman in his doorway, donned in a bright green hijab and frog-themed scrubs with a long green shirt underneath to cover her arms. She had a clipboard tucked under one arm as she gave him a small wave with the other. "Ahh! Hello there! Sorry, did I wake you?" She spoke in a soft yet cheery tone, brows knit in concern.

"Uhh...no. I actually just laid down..." Karkat muttered, sitting up straight and idly scratching his jaw. Nurses had peeked in on him in and out through the night, so having one randomly pop in wasn't too surprising to him at this point, if not slightly annoying. She seemed to mean well, though, so he couldn't really see himself getting too mad at her.

"Ahh, Okie dokie!" She immediately nodded, pulling out the clipboard and checking something off on it. "I'm _Caiiliyah_ , I'm going to be your nurse today. Do you need anything right now? Extra blankets? Towels? Anything?"

The woman seemed incredibly sweet, almost disarmingly so. Karkat looked around the room, giving a small, apathetic shrug. "I think I'm good uhh---actually, can I get some towels?" He asked, figuring if he was going to shower, he might as well do it while Gamzee was M.I.A.

"Definitely! Just give me one moment here!" Callie gave him a thumbs up, before shuffling away.

 

Karkat gave a deep sigh after she left, rubbing his eye and looking back to the drawings on the wall. He really wished he had slept more. Was it something you got used to? He could only assume Gamzee could sleep through the bright lights and the sounds of people walking up and down the hall. Gamzee could sleep through anything. He couldn't even count the number of times he couldn't tell if Gamzee had OD'd or if he was just asleep. _That_ was a scary thought. God, these scrubs were itchy. He scratched at his shoulderblade, shifting in place. He missed his hoodie. The lame one from the crab shack. He remembered when he used to get supervised visitation with Jack, they'd go to one of the lame tourist trap restaurants along the pier because Karkat loved feeding french fries to the seagulls. He wondered what Jack was up to these days. His Dad always said that he'd tell him if Jack tried to get in contact again...when was the last time he saw him, anyway? Christmas when he was...what, nine? Jack dropped by half drunk and made a big spiel about handing down some knife to him. Dad wouldn't even let him play with it, he ended up keeping it in a box on top of the cupboard and said Karkat could have it when he was 18. Maybe he could look Jack up on Facebook or something...if that was even what he was going by these days. Dude changed his phone number like crazy. That would be nice. Going back to the crab shack. Feeding some seagulls. Being outside, taking in some fresh air...listening to Jack go on about why the postal service is corrupt. Good old times. It seemed so nostalgic from in here, like he actually missed spending time with Jack over being here, even though there were reasons that didn't happen. How long has he been staring at this freaky clown drawing now.

 

"Towels."

 

A tall hospital aide with a thick Somali accent stepped in and dropped a stack of towels at the foot of Karkat's bed, then immediately stepping away, a stark contrast to his nurse. Karkat blinked a couple times, regaining his thoughts as he stared at the towels. Oh. Towels. Huh. He stood back up, stretching, before tucking them under one arm, stepping over to the door to his room and shutting it, before making his way to the bathroom.

 

\---

 

The bathroom was small, and incredibly bare bones. No mirror, no shelves, no lid on the toilet, no curtain or door on the shower. Just a sink, a toilet, and an open shower. Karkat closed the door behind him, setting his towels on the sink only to have the automatic faucet turn on, dousing the corner of the topmost towel. "Shit!" He muttered to himself, immediately grabbing them. "Where am I even supposed to put these?" He glanced around, before setting them on the floor near the door. He then reached to turn the shower on. The water flickered out of the showerhead, with barely any pressure while managing to get everywhere, the lack of any door or curtain leaving the water to sputter onto Karkat's shirt, water slowly seeping onto the floor outside the shower. "Jesus fuck!" He scoffed, stepping back and shedding his now slightly damp shirt. He set it near the towels, shedding his pants as well before moving the wet towel over near the shower to act as some kind of bathroom rug. He crossed his arms with a small shiver, reaching over to test the water again. Still cold. He sighed, twisting the knob as hot as it would go with one hand as the other stayed under the water. After about 10 seconds, he barely felt any change. 20 seconds, nothing. After almost a full minute, the water was only slightly tepid. Fuck. Was this it?

He sighed, stepping into the stream. Even if it wasn't freezing, it still felt way too cold, and barely even got him wet. He stood tense, arms crossed and eyes closed, trying to at least get his hair wet, which would be a task with how thick it was. He let his bangs hang down to cover his face, leaning his forehead against the front wall of the shower with a deep sigh. After a few seconds, he slowly dropped to the ground, turning around to lean his back against the shower then wrapping his arms around his knees and resting his chin on top of them. That wasn't any more comfortable. The aide didn't even give him any soap or new scrubs or anything...should he have requested them? Fuck. Nice going, dumbass. You're in a cold shower in a mental hospital with wet towels and wet scrubs and you're not even reaping any cleanly benefits. This was fucking ridiculous. Karkat gave a harsh huff, sniffling and wracking a hand through his hair, before he broke out sobbing. He'd had little, sniffly crying fits through the night, but nothing major. Karkat was a crier, you could show him a picture of your dog in a hat and well up. This wasn't like that. He was full on _crying_. This was ridiculous. He was pathetic. Who fucking cries in the shower? Crazy people. Fuck. Was he crazy? Was he actually crazy? How did he end up here? How did he end up like this? He knew his dad and him fought sometimes, and sometimes he'd yell at people or cry or say dumb shit about what a bad person he was...but that didn't make him crazy, right? Was he crazy?

Fuck. No. He had to get his shit together. He tried to stifle his sniffling, giving a gross cough or two as he stood up, fumbling about without any leverage as he turned the water off. He grabbed the driest of the towels he could find, drying off to the best of his ability and throwing his scrubs back on. His shirt was still a bit damp and cold, but it was all he had. God, he wished he had a mirror. He wiped his eyes, praying he looked presentable, and stepped out of the bathroom, returning to the group area. Tavros had _Teen Titans Go!_ playing on the TV, and Dave and Rose seemed to be playing a heated game of Connect 4. They all seemed to be in their element here, it was weird. They were enjoying themselves. They were being...normal. Gamzee was an extreme case, sure, and the phone guy was kind of a dick but...it was weird to him that these were the kinds of people that ended up here. They almost seemed to have their shit together better than he did. He just stood in the doorway of his room, staring out...what now?

"...Ay, yo. _Soggy_."

A girl stepped beside him, holding a protein shake in her hand. She was tall and thin, with dark skin and pink rimmed glasses, her hair pulled back into a short, puffy ponytail and her bright yellow scrubs barely hanging off her figure.

"You uhhh... _you alright_?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I just...I have some qualms with how that bathroom is set up." He tried to play it off like a joke, pulling at his damp shirt.

"Hah. Yeah. You'll get used to it soon enough, kid. You should probably get yourself some clean duds, dude. Anyone in the tan scrubs walkin' around can like...do that for ya." She gave him a playful shove to his shoulder, then stepped around him.

"...Yeah. I'll do that." Karkat muttered to basically nobody, stepping down the hall to find an aide to help him, pretending that none of that had happened from there on out.


End file.
